The Story Seeker
by piccolabimba
Summary: Truth be told, who isn't searching for that thrilling tale that every family hides behind walls and in hearts? To find and assemble all the pieces, revealing some unknown truth, this is the story seeker's delight.


_**The Story Seeker**_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of L.M. Montgomery's creations and Cecilia is the pet theory for Jem's daughter's name that pervades the fan fiction community. The poem by Walter Blythe 'Interludes' is included in the book _The Blythes are Quoted_—the last few writings about Anne and her clan. Not to mention I certainly don't have L.M.'s gift of descriptive and light-hearted writing.

**Author's Note:** Anne has always held a place in my heart and her story and that of her children feel like they really happened. They are like real people jumping out from the pages of a novel. I have had a little fun with that little aside about Una and Walter— and the next generation. Parents and grandparents are always shocked when their children are not terribly excited about their own history and past stories. I can see Una's story drifting in the rafters of the children's minds. She is simply 'Aunt Una' in this story.

**Summary:** Truth be told, who _isn't_ searching for that thrilling tale that every family hides behind walls and in hearts? To find and assemble all the pieces, revealing some unknown truth, this is the story seeker's delight.

_**Rumors of the Past**_

"Mother? Nancy March said that Aunt Una is an old maid who never got over her sweetheart who died in the war. Why hasn't Aunt Una ever gotten married? I thought that she just didn't like anyone. "

Faith Blythe sighed as she turned from the washbasin to answer her child-turning-woman. "I suppose in a way, Nancy is right, though she doubtless heard it from her mother. Aunt Una did lose a friend in the war."

"Not a sweetheart?"

"Perhaps he could have been, had he returned." Faith's voice turned a bit pensive.

"Oh. She also made it sound like something to do with the Blythes. She said 'Mother says one of your uncles broke her heart'. I told her that was rubbish since all of my uncles are married. Well, except Uncle Bruce, but he's your brother, not Daddy's. Well, and Uncle Walter, but he's dead, so…" Cecilia stopped short. "Mother, do you suppose she meant something happened with Aunt Una and Uncle Walter…?"

Faith was sure that her daughter knew some of the family stories, however the extensive lore was not as important to the new generation and so easily slipped through distracted minds. She held out a dishtowel to her daughter.

"Dry for me. I suppose a little family history is in order…"

_**Conversing with Aunt Una**_

Cecilia sat at the table and watched her Aunt Una drift around the room, putting everything in order in the manse sitting room. She could not get the story about her aunt and uncle out of her mind. Mother had advised against asking her aunt about anything, but she was determined to learn the whole story. Who knew such a romantic story happened to her own family! It was so hauntingly sad and beautiful how it all had happened. Aunt Una was in a cheerful mood today—there could not be a better time.

"Aunt Una, would you tell me about Uncle Walter?" Her aunt stopped in her tracks and stiffened briefly before softening and turning to face her niece.

"Why don't you ask your father or one of your aunts? He was their brother, not mine. "

"Is he why you never got married? Because he died in the war?" Best to be blunt, right? That way people cannot dance around the topic.

"He was my friend, Cecilia, so I was as upset as the rest of the Blythes and Glen St. Mary when he was killed. As for my never marrying… The truth is that the war took many men from our country and I have never found one to marry. Besides, that was a long time ago now."

"Grandmother Rosemary said that she thought she would never marry after her sweetheart died and then you made her marry Grandfather." Aunt Una smiled.

"I do not think that I forced anything. I simply asked her to be our step-mother."

"Were you very good friends with Uncle Walter? Did you want him for a sweetheart? Was he _very _handsome? I know he wrote poetry. Did he ever write any for you?"

Aunt Una's face got paler and paler with each question. She had hoped the topic had been dropped and seemed a bit at a loss, considering her kind nature and propensity to answer all of her niece's and nephew's questions to the best of her ability. Before anger from the inquiry could intervene in her niece's stream of questions, a vision of his gray eyes when he said goodbye washed over her, leaving her in a dream-like state.

Cecilia had stopped her questions at her aunt's expression. Aunt Una slid gracefully into a chair.

"He was very handsome. His dark hair and dreamy gray eyes making him the vision of a poet. He loved beauty and admired it everywhere. He was different from the other Blythe children. And always a little sweet on your mamma, right up until your parents got together. I was always quite fond of him, being a bit quiet like me and all. We used to sit under the trees in Rainbow Valley and simply look about us. Most everyone loved him, although people in the Glen thought him a little strange and saw his writing poetry as a shameful waste of time and paper."

"So, you were never sweethearts?"

"No. We could have been, perhaps, had he returned. But we were great friends."

"But you were sweet on him."

"I did fancy him. I fancied that he fancied me, even a little. Hmm." She smiled at another memory.

"Did he?"

"It is hard to say. Some seemed to think so."

"Mamma?" Cecilia could see that. Mother seemed to know a lot about what went on in and between the families.

"I think that they somehow figured me out and wanted me to be happy, and so hoped. Faith, Rilla, Mother Anne. However they suspected my regard , there is something that only one other knows to the story. Another suspects, but I have never confirmed her suspicions."

This was starting to sound like an inter-aunt alliance. Sometimes Cecilia forgot that all of her relatives had been great friends since they were children.

"What's your secret, Aunt Una?" Cecilia always did have a way of seeing the existence of one in others. Because of this, people tended to tell her things. Unfortunately, she also tended to read into things.

"Ask your Grandmother Anne about your uncle's unpublished works. Especially one called 'Interlude'. I always was quite fond of that one.

_**Interlude at Ingleside**_

Cecilia loved to visit her grandparents at Ingleside. The big house was homey and greeted you with open arms. At least, Grandmother always had a hug waiting for any of her family when they came to visit.

"My darling Cecilia! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, my dear?" Grandmother Anne drew her into the house and to the sitting room she so liked. The two green spotted dogs that watched over Ingleside, reigned from the mantle. Such funny dogs. Where were they from? It is so hard to keep all these family things straight. And there were a lot of them.

"Grandmother, I've been talking to Mamma about Uncle Walter lately…I am trying to determine the whole story."

Grandmother got the look on her face that showed whenever her dead son was mentioned. Then she cleared and smiled.

"Trying to piece something together? I see. Perhaps I can give you some help. What exactly are you trying to do?"

"What is the story with Uncle Walter and Aunt Una? No one will tell me about it. And everyone keeps throwing all these hints and never really _say_ anything!

"It is a bit of a sad and old tale, and not really mine to tell, nor do I know all of the pieces. There are many people involved in the story you are trying to 'uncover'."

"I want to preserve it."

"You want to render a human tale into writing, I understand completely." Her grandmother's smile quite reflected her words. "Just don't disappoint yourself with the simplicity of life. Things usually are not what you want or expect them to be. Now, what are you looking for?"

"I went to see Aunt Una and she sent me to you because she said you have some poems that he wrote? One called 'Interlude'?"

"Ah. Una never was comfortable talking about herself, though she is the best source for your quest. Why don't you go say hello to your grandfather while I go get the poems?"

Grandfather Gilbert sat in his study, reviewing some old cases. Although his practice had almost entirely passed to his son, some people in the Glen continued to hold on to the 'new doctor' as they still called him despite his many years' service in Glen St. Mary. It was not unusual for the phone to ring, asking for the doctor. He was getting tired of trying to convince people that her father, 'the doctor's son', was just as capable if not more so, than he. They usually laughed and said they were so used to ringing up Ingleside that they did it quite automatically. Either that or tried to convince Dr. Blythe, Sr. to attend them. At her knock, he turned around with a smile.

"And how is my Cecilia today?" His smile always made her feel loved.

"Looking for pieces of a story, Grandfather."

"How very Anne-like." It was still funny to hear her grandmother referred to this way. "And whose story are you looking for?"

"Aunt Una and Uncle Walter's" He scrunched his eyebrows together for a moment.

"Ah, that is a hidden tale. No one really knows much about the subject. Never thought there was anything to it, myself."

"Do you know anything?"

"I know Una and her quiet ways. I knew my son, and how he was. They had much in common and were good friends besides."

"I know they are good friends, but that is common knowledge! I want to know if they were sweethearts—secret ones."

"Hmm. There seems to be some evidence to that conclusion, however Una tends to keep her own confidences. You know, she and Rilla grew quite close during the war." Grandmother knocked on the propped door.

"Cecilia dear, here are the papers I have. Would you like to see them in the sitting room?" She sent a glance to Grandfather Gilbert.

"Why don't you sit down on that seat next to Cecilia and read them aloud, Anne-girl?" It was always a sight to see her grandmother get a faint tinge of pink and smile at Grandfather as she sat down next to Cecilia.

"Now then. You wanted to hear 'Interlude'" Grandmother started in with _Today a wind of dream_. Cecilia got caught up in the word of her long dead uncle who speak of the beautiful creations in the world. She listened intently for clues, unsure as to why this poem was so important to her aunt. It seemed to speak of the Glen, a little bit of fairytale too. Did she like the time in his life it was from? Perhaps she was with him when he wrote it? Then, the last stanza caught her ear as one who listened for another.

"Grandmother, what was that last bit?"

"_O wind of dream, blow still, _

_ For I would have it stay…_

_That ghostly pressure sweet and chill_

_ That kiss of yesterday._" *See Author's Note

Oh, yes, I remember now. When I was reading these, many years ago, your mother mentioned that before he left, Walter…" Grandmother stopped.

"Uncle Walter what?"

"Una felt quite close to this particular poem, even though it was written long before our sons left for war."

"I am quite confused, Grandmother. Why does Aunt Una like the poem so much? Was she there when he wrote it?" Grandmother was looking at Grandfather while she spoke.

"Gil, remember, Jem wondered if Walter had ever kissed a girl before he died. And Faith said that he had kissed Una before he left for war."

"Quite. Now that you mention it that is quite true."

"She simply does not want her affairs aired. She is not one for pity"

"But aren't people curious?"

"Perhaps. Most have forgotten, however, until someone mentions Una as an old maid."

"I'm sorry that is all I have for you, dear." Grandmother folded up the pages of her son's poetry.

"Grandmother, might I copy out that poem? Perhaps two and give one to Aunt Una?" Grandmother Anne smoothed out the paper.

"Come to my writing desk and we shall. I am sure that she would like that." She left the room. Cecilia turned to her grandfather before leaving to give him a hug.

"The Fords are coming down to Four Winds next week for the summer. Perhaps you can talk to your Aunt Rilla while she is here." Grandfather's hazel eyes twinkled. "After all, they two think they loved Walter the best."

"Thanks Grandfather." She smiled at him before heading to Grandmother's desk.

_**Aunt Rilla's Two Bits**_

The Fords did in fact arrive at Four Winds and Cecilia did get a chance to talk with her Aunt Rilla on one of their trips to Ingleside. Once again, she didn't get much information.

"Una was always very private and does not like to make 'big deals' about her personal stories. Maybe you should leave her alone."

"But Grandmother helped me! Surely you know something, Aunt Rilla!"

"Your grandmother is one for stories and romantic tales."

"It's your turn to add a chip to the mix."

"I will tell you just one thing on the subject of Walter and Una."

"Which is?"

"They were very fond of each other. Sometimes it seemed like they were communicating on another level that no one else could join in on. Stupid Walter could never see how much Una fancied him. He was glad he left no one behind, or so he said. I only suspected about Una then."

"Everyone says that about them. 'Fancied'. Didn't they love each other?"

"They did not have the time to develop their relationship far beyond friendship. When the war started, Walter seemed oblivious and Una very secretive. They were a slow two. It is an old word that perfectly describes them."

"Did they write to each other?"

"Most likely. Only Una can say for sure."

"Is there anything else? Please, Aunt Rilla!"

"Well…shortly after we heard the news about Walter, I received a letter from him, he mentioned Una in it. I gave it to her, although it was the last word from a dear brother, she needed it more than I. I would imagine that she still has it, though it would be imprudent to ask. It was such a long time ago now!"

Aunt Rilla left her niece to puzzle out all the information received thus far.

_**Beautiful, Past Remembrances**_

It was not a love letter. In fact, it was written to his sister. However, he did consider Aunt Una an important lady in his life. It was about courage, patriotism, ideas. Keeping the faith and being strong. The only promising line was about Una's steadfast eyes and loyal heart. How he saw her blue eyes that night before he died.

Cecilia couldn't help but feel disappointed. Somehow this great love story that she tried to track down just didn't have the feel she was looking for. Aunt Rilla had said that the kiss had been a quick, brotherly goodbye as he got on the train. Not a silent whisper in Rainbow Valley by moonlight, a quiet promise of a future.

She felt deceived, even though no one had played anything up. It was all in her own mind. Everything the family had said was true. They were friends. Aunt Una loved him. Uncle Walter was unaware of Aunt Una's feelings and treated her as a sister and friend. He wrote a poem that had nothing to do with Una. If all of this was so, why did Una continue to pine for him? Couldn't she see that there is nothing there? Nothing. No secret understanding. Simply a woman's far off admiration. Just as he had a far off admiration of her own mother.

And yet, the faded, beloved letter she held in her hand was still beautiful. Hopeful. They were her uncle's words, how he spoke. The things and people that he felt were important. Didn't he write to Aunt Rilla? Didn't he include Aunt Una? Perhaps he really was not unaware, but somehow knew he would not come back and did not want to further burden anyone? It was a strange thought. Sure, this was not a dramatic, yearning, romantic love story that she was looking for, but a more complete story that encompassed two families and a war inside it. A human story that held sweetness and sadness together.

What was it that everyone had said? "Perhaps it could have been, had he returned."

_**Reconciliation**_

Aunt Una settled herself next to her niece and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"You look like you lost the moon, my dear. Not quite what you were looking for?" She asked kindly. "Sorry to disappoint you. You were so interested and I did not quite know what to say."

"I feel very foolish, Aunt Una. Please accept my apology for prying into your life. I knew it was a secret that no one talked about yet I still pushed my way bull-headed through it." Una smiled.

"An inherited trait, I assure you. Don't worry. I was a little flattered that you were so interested in my little story. I am a bit ashamed of it as well; I suppose that is why I was so reluctant to tell you about anything. Not to mention you didn't believe half of what I said. Not the best way to approach an interview, I'm afraid." They giggled.

"It really was beautiful, you know" Cecilia snuggled into her aunt "if you don't mind my asking, why didn't you ever marry?"

"I suppose it started out as mourning—missing- Walter. I really did love him, you know. I didn't much like the men around anyways—all of our group paired off, leaving me and Shirley to hang about. For a while, people thought that we would finish off the clan and marry each other, but it was never like that between us.

After a while, I got used to how it was alone. Sure, I was uncomfortable being a burden to Father and Mother Rosemary. That's why I try to do as much as I can for them. They have indulged me quite well over the years" she laughed a little at herself "of course, you are thinking: but don't you want a home? Children? And the answer is yes, but I do have a home, and all you children. It is not the same, but it is nice for me. Yes, I do get a little lonely at times and wish I had what my siblings have, but in the end the melancholy goes away and all is happy in the world again."

"But, Aunt Una, you are still young! Perhaps some young man will move into town who sweeps you off your feet and changes your mind—like what you did with Grandmother Rosemary."

"I won't deny that as a possibility, but the probability is quite low, dear. Besides, I am not looking for more excitement."

"I'm not giving up yet. Operation Aunt Una will launch now! You leave it to me, I'll find you a beau!"

"Silly girl!"

"Silly aunt!" The two jumped up from their perch and Una gently folded up the letter and slid it back into its own place. The two left the manse arm in arm in search of the laughter that comes from friends.

Perhaps, someday things will change, but for now, the Blythes and the Merediths are content in the life and love that they live in. As for what happened that night when Walter's last letter came, Una kept that secret in her heart in the little spot that the dreamy, gray-eyed poet kept house.

_**In case you were wondering:**_

"_Una took the letter and when Rilla had gone she pressed it against her lonely lips. Una knew that love would never come into her life now—it was buried forever under the blood-stained soil "Somewhere in France." No one but herself—and perhaps Rilla—knew it—would ever know it. She had no right in the eyes of her world to grieve. She must hide and bear her long pain as best she could—alone. But she, too, would keep faith." _

_–Rilla of Ingleside from the chapter "And so, Goodnight"_


End file.
